I'm Gonna Make You Suffer
by HuggingTotoro
Summary: Spoilers if you haven't seen HLV or Season 3 of Sherlock. Good old Moriarty has captured Molly and wants to hear how much she has missed him.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Sherlock or any of the characters. -sigh- /because if I did Molly and Moriarty would be together and Johnlock would be cannon/ All rights own to Arthur Conan Doyle and Moffat and Gatiss. I'm just using the characters in a random fanfic idea I had. Spoilers if you haven't seen HLV or Season 3 of Sherlock. I hope you enjoy reading this ;-;

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When her eyes opened she felt a feeling of disorientation consume her brain. She wondered if this was how victims felt in stories when they were captured. But she wasn't a fictional character and this wasn't a story. She didn't have a hero coming to save her. She doubted her hero even knew she was missing. In fact no one would notice she was gone; because she was Molly Hooper. The girl who knew more dead people in real life than living ones. She was a dormouse. The sort of person you could walk past every day and then forget about in the next second. Expect for one person hadn't forgotten about her - like she had been counting on. No, that person had remembered her quite well. And he was reason why she had woken up drugged in some monstrous white room.

The last thing Molly remembered was that she was watching Glee while cutting up another dead person before it had happened; before she had gotten kidnapped. She remembered hearing Rachel and Finn voices' singing "Don't Stop Believing" through the television screen while Molly further worked on the body; when a crackling noise appeared and murdered the Glee program in a second; filling the morgue with the words "Did you miss me?" in a high chipmunk voice.

Molly had assumed that it was another glitch in the system as it had often played up before. She expected for it to go away in a few minutes. It wasn't until five minutes later that she actually looked up from the dead body and saw his face on the screen. She felt like screaming but no sound came out of her mouth.

'He couldn't back. It wasn't possible. He had to be dead' her mind told herself repeatedly. She felt that if she said it enough times that maybe she convince herself he wasn't back and this was all some sick joke someone was playing on her.

'But technically Sherlock shouldn't be alive either Molly,' she told herself, 'surely Jim would have worked out a way to fake his own death as well. He was smart as Sherlock, maybe even smarter.'

Her mind arguing with herself and felt like she was going to throw up.

_Did you miss me? Did you miss me? _The words played around until they echoed in her head, swirling in her mind back and fro. She felt like her mind had been swallowed up by a vortex and he was now consuming all her thoughts. She felt like she was stuck in one of the moments, in a horror film squeal – when victim realises that the villain is back and it's not over yet, like they wanted it to be.

Molly hated horror films in general. She absolutely loathed them and found them ridiculous. The supposedly heroes characters would always go and do something unbelievably stupid. And then end up get themselves killed.

Maybe that was what snapped her out of her vortex of thoughts. Molly knew that if stood any longer, she was going to get herself killed. That's when Molly decided to walk up to the television screen and pull out the plug. She stood there a moment, allowing herself to start her breathing back to normal. Then she started to walk towards the morgue door. She had to see Sherlock. She had to warn him that Jim was back. She had to.

But as she got close towards the door. She heard the chipmunk voices start up again. "Did you miss me? Did you miss me?" the words spun her. Almost like they were serenading her in some horrifying music number.

She couldn't move. She was paralysed by them and from the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw an outline of figure. She felt her heart stop cold. She wanted to run, she wanted to scream for help but she couldn't move. She was frozen on that spot. She saw him step out wearing a dark blue Westwood suit and a blood red tie. She saw the wolfish smirk on his face as if he planned to murder her there and right now.

"Did you miss me Molly-Mouse?" he spoke to her in that soft Irish tone.

A tone once she had smiled about in memories but now it just made her feel sick. She felt herself gulp and before she reply back; she felt a set of hands forcefully grab hold of her mouth – stopping her from replying.

"Oh Molly-Mouse, it looks like a cat has got your tongue doesn't it?" he drawled out his words purposely slow as if he was enjoying.

'He probably got off on it, the sick bastard' Molly thought.

He edged closer to her, his eyes never leaving her face. It was like he was analysing it, working out the best ways he could destroy it. She wanted to retaliate in some way. She wanted to bite at his minion's hand. She wanted to kick and scream. But she couldn't, her fear was stronger than her anger and it kept her paralysed there.

He was just in front of her now. She felt like a deer caught in the headlights. She couldn't do anything but watch. She saw him bent down towards her and felt his breath tickle against her as he whispered in her ear, "Oh Molly-Mouse. Don't worry, you tell me all about how much you missed me later. But right now you're going to have to go to sleep."

And then she felt a needle jam into her neck and everything went black.

After she recalled the memory of her capturing it was then Molly snapped back to reality. She realised that her body was now actually paralysed and the only thing she could do was turn her head sideways but that caused her head to ache. She felt cold and numb; stiff and uncomfortable; trapped and paralysed. She was sitting back on a wooden chair and it had began to dig into her back, causing more discomfort.

She heard the door creak opened and there her monster had appeared. He titled his head slightly and started to make his way over to her.

His Irish tone was laughing mockingly at her as he spoke, "Oh Molly-Mouse, we are going to have so much fun together."

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So erm yeah hopefully that was okay for you guys to read ;-; erm if you would like some more please let me know and hopefully I'll update soon. Cookies for you if read this ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Yup, I don't own anything or all rights belong to the Sherlock BBC writers and Mr Doyle. I am only borrowing the characters in a fanfic idea of mine.

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_His Irish tone was laughing mockingly at her as he spoke, "Oh Molly-Mouse, we are going to have so much fun together"._

She looked up at him, he was still dressed up in another Westwood Suit, however this time he was sporting a light grey one, which made him look like a wolf in a sheep's skin. He seemed to take each step towards her purposely slow - just like a predator would stalk its prey.

Molly could do nothing but stare up at him and think. Her thoughts became rushed while she tried to process the whole situation. The questions began to swim around her mind until they changed into an incoherent inner monologue.

'How long have I been stuck here for? How long have I been drugged? It must be a while because he even changed suits. He probably wanted to look nice before he murdered me – the sick bastard. Oh god this is it, isn't it. I'm going to die now. I'm going to die alone in this room. Oh god, who will look after Toby?'

The pointless question spun around her mind: capturing it. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She felt like she couldn't think. She felt like her own mind had turned on her; and was now twisting all the sanity out of her and replacing it only with her fear. She didn't even notice that he was only a few feet away from her, it wasn't until he spoke which snapped Molly back into reality.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her in a sing-song voice.

Molly was instantly baffled and answered automatically, "Excuse me. What?"

He had titled his head again and sighed before he asked her again, "I said Molly-Mouse, are you hungry?" she didn't reply back this time – only stared at him. The confusion was clear in her eyes.

He sighed again dramatically while putting up palm to his face and uttered into it "idiot."

"Hungry? As. In. Food. Would. You. Like. To Eat. Something?" He spoke each word deliberately slow, as if she was a young child instead of a well brained adult.

Molly rolled her eyes at this. She knew she was going to die here. But she would be damned if he thought he could treat her like a little child instead of an adult.

"I know what hungry means. I'm not stupid. I just don't understand why you – of all people, would be asking me why I am hungry. Aren't you supposed to be giving some big whole villain speech about how you're going to kill me?" the words snapped out of her and she regretted them instantly.

She had expected him to be angry at her outburst. She had expected him to come over and hit her, what she hadn't expected him to do was laugh. The chuckle fell from his mouth and sounded almost innocent. It was the sort of laugh which was infectious. It could make you forget about who he was and Molly felt the urge to laugh with him, but didn't as she realised who was laughing.

A few moments later the laugh died on his mouth and instead it was replaced by a chilling silence. He edged closer towards her until he was only a step away from her. He blocked her view completely and she squeezed her eyes shut. She heard the crackling of his suit as he bent down in front of her and she felt a finger caress her face.

"Molly-Mouse. I'm asking you if you are hungry because I wouldn't be a good host, if I didn't offer my guest anything to eat."

She refused to reply back to him. She felt sick in her stomach. She wanted to move away from him but she was trapped. She wanted to scream out for help but who would she call for? She had no one here. She told her repeatedly not give him the satisfaction – she refused to play along with his sick little games.

So she stay there as still as mouse.

"Molly-Mouse, open your eyes." He spoke with such softness in his Irish tone which made her almost want to open them but she imagined that wolfish smirk and squeezed her eyes harder together.

She had become a statue. She didn't even flinch as she felt him move into her. She didn't even gasp as she felt his face rest on her shoulder. Her breathing stopped when she felt his breathe tickle against her ear.

"Molly-Mouse, Molly-Mouse. My sweet little Molly-Mouse. Open your eyes." he muttered against her ear and then waited a moment for her to do so. But she kept shut, refusing to open them.

"Molly-Mouse," his voice had changed from soft into a menacing - like he was viper ready to attack, as hissed in her ear "open your eyes Molly or I will cut them open for you."

Maybe her fear had finally crept back in or maybe it was due to the fact he was too close to her, that caused Molly to open her eyes.

Once she had opened her eyes, he leaned back to look at her - analysing her further. He made her feel like she was some sort of experiment to him; like she was some inhuman problem that he was trying solve.

Molly wasn't sure if she was being paralysed by the drugs still or by his own presence. She was found herself staring into his eyes as she could do nothing else but stare. They had once been chocolate brown, they had once shone so brightly at her. But now they had turned black and they seemed to be taunting her; as if they were feeding off her fear.

A smirk dance on his face and he truly looked like the devil's recantation. She felt the finger start to caress her face again and his other hand had grabbed at her chin – digging his fingers into it, forcing her to tilt her head up towards him.

He licked his lips and she felt like he was going to gobble her up right there and then. She felt body become cold as his voice filled the space her, "Now Molly-Mouse, about being hungry?"

_His Irish tone was laughing mockingly at her as he spoke, "Oh Molly-Mouse, we are going to have so much fun together"._

She looked up at him, he was still dressed up another Westwood Suit however this time he was sporting a light grey one, which made him look like a wolf in a sheep's skin. He seemed to take each step towards her purposely slowly just like a predator would stalk their prey.

Molly could do nothing but stare up at him and think. Her thoughts became rushed while she tried to process the whole situation. The questions began to swim around her mind until they changed into an incoherent inner monologue.

'How long have I been in here for? How long have I been drugged?' It must be a while because he even changed suits. He probably wanted to look nice before he murdered me – the sick bastard. Oh god this is it, isn't it. I'm going to die now. I'm going to die alone in this room. Oh god, who will look after Toby?'

The pointless question spun around her mind: capturing it. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She felt like she couldn't think. She felt like her own mind had turned on her; and was now twisting all the sanity out of her and replacing it only with her fear. She didn't even notice that he was only a few feet away from her, it wasn't until he spoke which snapped Molly back into reality.

"Are you hungry" he asked her in a sing-song voice.

Molly was instantly baffled and answered automatically, "Excuse me. What?"

He had titled his head again and sighed before he asked her again, "I said Molly-Mouse, are you hungry?" she didn't reply back this time – only stared at him. The confusion was clear in her eyes.

He sighed again dramatically while putting up palm to his face and uttered into it "idiot."

"Hungry? As. In. Food. Would. You. Like. To Eat. Something?" He spoke each word deliberately slow, as if she was a young child instead of a well brained adult.

Molly rolled her eyes at this. She knew she was going to die here. But she would be damned if he thought he could treat her like a little child instead of an adult.

"I know what hungry means. I'm not stupid. I just don't understand why you – of all people, would be asking me why I am hungry. Aren't you supposed to be giving some big whole villain speech about how you're going to kill me?" the words snapped out of her and she regretted them instantly.

She had expected him to be angry at her outburst. She had expected him to come over and hit her, what she hadn't expected him to do was laugh. The chuckle fell from his mouth and sounded almost innocent. It was the sort of laugh which was infectious. It could make you forget about who he was and Molly felt the urge to laugh with him, but didn't as she realised who him was.

A few moments later the laugh died on his mouth and instead it was replaced by a chilling silence. He edged closer towards her until he was only a step away from her. He blocked her view completely and she squeezed her eyes shut. She heard the crackling of his suit as he bent down in front of her and she felt a finger caress her face.

"Molly-Mouse. I'm asking you if you are hungry because I wouldn't be a good host, if I didn't offer my guest anything to eat."

She refused to reply back to him. She felt sick in her stomach. She wanted to move away from him but she was trapped. She wanted to scream out for help but who would she call for? She had no one here. She told her repeatedly not give him the satisfaction – she refused to play along with his sick little games.

So she stay there as still as mouse.

"Molly-Mouse, open your eyes." He spoke with such softness in his Irish tone which made her almost want to open them but she imagined that wolfish smirk and squeezed her eyes harder together.

She had become a statue. She didn't even flinch as she felt him move into her. She didn't even gasp as she felt his face was resting on her shoulder. Her breathing stopped when she felt his breathe tickle against her ear.

"Molly-Mouse, Molly-Mouse. My sweet little Molly-Mouse. Open your eyes." he muttered against her ear and then waited a moment for her to do so but she kept still – refusing to open them.

"Molly-Mouse," his voice had turned into a menacing hiss – like he was viper ready to attack, "open your eyes Molly or I will cut them open for you."

Maybe her fear had finally crept back in or maybe it was due to the fact he was too close to her that caused Molly to open her eyes.

Once she had opened her eyes, he leaned back to look at her - analysing her further. He made her feel like she was some sort of experiment to him; like she was some inhuman problem that he was trying solve.

Molly wasn't sure if she was being paralysed by the drugs still or by his own presence. She was found herself staring into his eyes as she could do nothing else but stare. They had once chocolate brown, they had once shone so brightly at her. But now they had turned black and they seemed to be taunting at her; as if they were feeding off her fear and anxieties.

A smirk dance on his face and he truly looked like the devil's recantation. She felt the finger start to caress her face again and his other hand had grabbed at her chin – digging his fingers into it, forcing her to tilt her head up towards him.

He licked his lips and she felt like he was going to gobble her up right there and then. She felt her body become cold as his voice filled the space around her, "Now Molly-Mouse, about being hungry?"

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Author Note: Okay well thank you for everyone who reviewed and have followed my story ^_^ erm I hope you have enjoyed this chapter and erm -throws cookies at you guys- let me know if you want more soon? :)


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